The Title of “Gutenberg”
“Everything ready, Gutenberg?”
“Would you stop calling me that?!”
“Third bell’s gonna ring soon if we don’t get a move on. C’mon! Let’s go, Gutenberg.”
The foreman put the goods into a bag and threw open the door, brushing off my protests with a chuckle. I followed him, the heavy box of metal letter types in my arms and a sharp frown on my face. Today I would be presenting the fruits of my leherl task to the Smithing Guild. Everyone else in the workshop saw us off with grins.
“Hey, Gutenberg, be sure to really sell those types of yours to ’em.”
“My name’s Johann! Quit calling me ‘Gutenberg’!”
“Heheh! Not everyone gets a special title from their patron, y’know. That’s somethin’ you should brag to the guild about.”
...Ngh! Why does everyone have to make fun of me?!
Thanks to the foreman, even my guild mates were calling me “Gutenberg” now. Or rather, I should say it was all thanks to Myne, my one and only patron. As I carried the heavy box, I thought back to the day she had given me my title.
It all happened when I went to the Gilberta Company to present my leherl task to them. I always asked so many questions about the orders I received that no customer except Myne was willing to be my patron. She was tiny and didn’t even look old enough to have been baptized yet, but I guess looks can be deceiving. Besides, it was easy to forget she was a little girl when she was answering questions about her orders, providing blueprints, and paying for what she needed.
In the end, her task for me was making metal letter types. I had to make each letter according to her exact specifications, which was as rewarding as it was immensely difficult.
...I wonder if Lady Myne will like them, I’d thought as I removed the cloth covering the box and unveiled the letter types to my one and only patron, fearfully awaiting the appraisal that would decide my future.
“Wow...”
Myne looked at the letter types, her golden eyes trembling. She had the pale white skin of one who never went out in the sun, which made the fact that her cheeks had flushed with color even more evident. The way she put a hand to her chest while sighing made her look entirely like a girl in love, and there was a certain intensity about her gaze that seemed unnatural for a little girl to have.
She timidly picked up one of the letter types and rolled it around in her tiny palm, looking at it as though it were the greatest treasure in the world.
...I guess it’s safe to say she likes them, then.
The moment I let out a sigh of relief, Myne’s wavering eyes of joy hardened as she adopted a more calm and critical expression. She took out a second letter type and lined them both up on the table before lowering her head to look at them straight on. Then she narrowed her eyes and began measuring their thickness and height, checking for any differences.
A-Are they going to be okay?
I grew fearful again, until she gave me her appraisal.
“They’re wonderful! You truly have become Gutenberg!”
“Wha?”
“Johann, I award you the title of ‘Gutenberg’!”
...Guten-what now?
I dropped my jaw like a fool as I stared at Myne. Her presence as a delicate and frail princess—a beautiful, pale flower sheltered from the world—had just shattered violently before my very eyes.
Lutz tried to calm her down, but Myne’s excitement was unstoppable. She brushed him right off and launched out of her chair, talking as fast as she could, her cheeks now even more flushed.
“I mean, this is the beginning of the printing age! You’re literally bearing witness to the exact moment history was changed forever! This is the second coming of Gutenberg! His first name was Johannes, and now he’s changing history as Johann! What a splendid coincidence! A fateful meeting of legend! Praise be to the gods!”
...Yeah, I have absolutely no idea what she’s talking about.
I had been forced to make the same weird pose back at my coming of age ceremony in the temple, but this was my first time seeing someone strike it and pray to the gods in normal life. Everyone was stunned, but Myne didn’t stop there.
“Gutenberg is a legendary craftsman on the level of a god whose work changed history and books forever. Johann is indeed this city’s Gutenberg!”
Before I could fully process the extreme weight of the title she had given me, Myne started giving Benno and Lutz the same one. My comrades were increasing before my eyes. And yet, my main concern was someone stopping her and putting an end to this awkward atmosphere.
I glanced at the servant standing behind Myne, who had kind of a self-important look on his face, just as Myne struck the pose again and praised Metisonora, the Goddess of Wisdom! It was then that she fell forward, still striking the pose with a happy smile on her face. She hit the ground and fell still; for a second, an uncomfortable silence filled the room.
“...Wha?! Lady Myne?!”
“Girl, are you okay?!”
“Wh-What’s going on?!”
Out of everyone there, only the servant guarding her, the foreman, and myself stood up in shock. The servant hurriedly knelt beside her, checking up on her as the foreman and I watched nervously. But everyone else just gave heavy sighs.
“Took her long enough. Now I can finally have some peace and quiet again,” Benno said, not even moving from his chair. He, Lutz, and even her other servants seemed entirely unfazed.
“Fran, just lay her down on that bench over there. She’s gonna be going back on the carriage anyway.”
“As you wish. Excuse me, Sir Damuel.” The servant called Fran picked up the unconscious Myne and carried her to the bench by the fireplace for some reason, then laid her down and rested a thick, warm-looking coat over her. The process was so swift and calm that it was entirely like they had all predicted this would happen.
While I was still at a loss for words, Benno drummed his fingers against the table. “Let’s start the appraisal, then. I’ll take care of this as Myne’s backer since she’s passed out. Alright?”
“Huh...? You’re just going to leave her like that?”
I glanced at Myne lying unconscious on the bench, wondering whether it was okay to do nothing about a little girl who had just fallen unconscious out of nowhere. It sure didn’t seem right.
“Whaddaya think, Lutz?”
“She’ll probably wake up around sunset. I would guess she’ll have a big fever when she wakes up, but she has only herself to blame for that,” Lutz said flatly, giving a small shrug. He seemed pretty used to dealing with Myne.
“How many days will this one last?” Fran asked.
“...Depends on how long she stays this excited. I’ve got no idea, since I’ve never seen her get this crazy.”
Judging by their conversation, I could tell it wasn’t that uncommon for Myne to collapse. I wish I had known that sooner, though; I was sure I was going to have a heart attack for a second there.
“Anyway, this should be an easy appraisal. Anything that makes a patron pass out with joy should pass with flying colors, I’d say.”
“Yeah, wasn’t hard to see how excited she was,” said the foreman. “Your appraisal will do, Benno. Though I gotta say, I would’ve liked to know what these are even used for.”
As the foreman looked over the letter types, Myne’s younger servant snapped his head up in sudden realization and took out what he had been carrying.
“I’ll demonstrate. Sister Myne told me to prepare for this.”
“What’re you gonna do, Gil?”
“I’m gonna put ink on them and print something. Duh. Heheh.”
Gil, looking excited, nimbly took out the tools he needed. He lined up the roller, paper, ink, and some circular thing I had never seen before on the table. The roller I had previously made for Myne was now completely black, and judging by the fact that Gil was now covering it with ink, I could guess why.
“According to Sister Myne, you would line up the letter types and make a page of text with them. Then you put ink on them like this,” explained Gil as he ran the roller over the letter types, turning them from gleaming silver to a sticky black.
“Woah, woah, woah!” I reflexively cried out at the sight of Gil dirtying up Myne’s letter types without her permission but he just ignored my yells, placing a sheet of paper over the types.
“For actual printing we’d use some kind of press thing to push the ink on, but since this is just a demonstration of the letter types, I’ll be using this baren thing instead,” Gil explained proudly as he pressed the flat, round thing against the top of the paper, rubbing it in circles. It seemed I was the only one feeling sick with horror; everyone else peered at Gil’s work with great interest.
“Once the ink’s on the paper, you peel it off of the types and let it dry.”
Gil removed the paper, showing that it had rows of distinct letters printed in black ink. He repeated the process using another sheet, making an identical copy. A wide grin on his face, Gil then held the two pieces of paper side by side and showed them to us.
...So what? I don’t get what’s so impressive. That looks like a waste of paper to me, I thought.
But, looking around the room, it was pretty clear that I was the only one who had that opinion. Benno, the foreman, and Myne’s guard all developed hard expressions the second they saw the pages.
Myne’s bodyguard Damuel looked particularly taken aback; he was closely examining the two sheets with a deadly serious look in his eyes.
“You finished two pages that quickly?” he said, “I can’t believe it.”
Meanwhile, the foreman had picked up a few of the unused letter types, lining them up in his palm before grunting.
“Each type is just a single letter, so it’s easy to mix ’em around and make whatever text you need.”
“She did say it would be much, much faster than cutting out stencils each time,” Lutz said, making everyone furrow their brows even harder.
“Myne was right. This will change history. I knew about printing, but I didn’t realize it’d be this easy to swap around the letters.” Benno sighed and shook his head. “Just what has that idiot done this time...?”
Benno’s words spoke for everyone, as they all collectively looked at Myne, still unconscious on the bench. They seemed to know what was going on, but I sure didn’t. All I knew was that, by taking Myne on as my patron, I had gotten wrapped up in something that there’d be no return from.
“Myne had said she’d start making the printing press now, so I’m gonna guess it’ll be a while before she makes a lot of them and things really start to happen,” Benno said in a brighter tone, but the foreman shook his head with a conflicted expression.
“She said she was gonna order it from a carpentry workshop. That means she already has a good idea of how to make one. If she can make a detailed blueprint like the ones she gives Johann, it won’t be long before that printing press is done.”
Myne’s blueprints were always very thorough and precise, especially the ones she made for me since she knew I liked to have all of the relevant details. If the carpentry workshop was given a blueprint like that, they would have the press done in no time.
Benno scratched his head. “True, but it’ll be some time before the influence of the printing press really starts being felt. This is still the only city with plant paper workshops, and we’ve only just signed a contract for the ink guild to start making the ink for that paper. There’s a massive lack of resources here; we can’t keep up with the presses. But, well... given that the workshops in other cities will start opening up again in the spring, it’ll only be a matter of time before everything changes.”
Then, he shot me a sharp glare. The sudden intensity was such a one-eighty from his previous relaxed attitude that I actually gasped.
“Johann, you’re gonna be known as ‘Gutenberg’ from now on. Myne gave you the title herself, and don’t think you’ve got any chance of getting away from her now,” Benno said, still staring daggers into me.
Unable to think of anything to say in response, I just bobbed my head up and down. I’m terrified. I’ll make anything she wants, so please, let me live.
Benno gave a satisfied nod, the voice of my heart having apparently been heard loud and clear.
“Good.”
...Not like I have any other patrons to run away to, anyway.
I pursed my lips at the memory of what had happened at the Gilberta Company, at which point the foreman told me that we’d be going back there to report whatever the guild said about the types. I jerked in surprise, thinking for a second that he had read my thoughts, but that was silly.
Together, we walked into the Smithing Guild. It was located in the heart of the city, which described the square surrounding the central plaza. There were lots of guilds in that square, with the Merchant’s Guild being the big daddy of them all.
The southwestern section of the square was where the craftsmen guilds were, like the Smithing Guild, the Carpentry Guild, and the Construction Guild. The Tailor’s Guild and Dyeing Guild were in the northwest, while the Inn Guild and Eatery Guild were to the southeast. In the northeast was the Merchant’s Guild and a meeting building for soldiers. And now that it was spring again, the heart of the city was bustling with people coming to and going from all of these different guilds.
We stepped into the Smithing Guild, which was just as busy as expected. Some people were here to sell, having brought along things they had made as winter handiwork, while others like me had come with their leherl tasks. It was quite the commotion.
“Heya, Johann. I heard you found a patron, huh? Congrats,” said the receptionist, who had been worried about me in the past. My desperate hunt for a patron was well-known in the Smithing Guild.
I lifted up the box of letter types a little so that he could see it. “Yeah. They gave a good appraisal for my task, too. Things are finally looking up for me.”
By finding a patron and receiving a good appraisal for their completed task, I had avoided having my leherl contract nullified. I still needed to show my task to the Smithing Guild so that they could appraise it themselves, but I would be fine no matter what they said; keeping my leherl contract safe was all that mattered to me at this point.
“That’s all that matters to you, huh? You sure don’t have much ambition for a man of your talents,” said the receptionist.
People told me that a lot, but I really didn’t agree. It was a simple matter of fact that my appraisal from the Smithing Guild wouldn’t affect how likely I was to secure more patrons, no matter how good or bad it was. After all, it didn’t matter how highly the workshop or the guild valued my work if our customers didn’t share that opinion.
The foreman and I moved on to the second floor, where we saw a crowd of leherls. They had presumably just come of age as well, as each one was holding their completed task as they waited alongside their foreman.
“Well, well, well. I see that, despite all your fussing about not having a patron, you still ended up getting a task,” said a young man with short, scarlet-colored hair, a defiant look in his gray eyes.
Judging by the fact he was here, we were either the same age or just a year apart. I couldn’t say for sure, though, since the amount of time it took to find a patron and then complete their task varied from person to person.
...Who is this guy?
I sometimes went outside to buy materials or deliver orders at the request of the foreman or my coworkers, but I generally spent all of my time holed up in the workshop. To be honest, I barely knew anybody. The foreman always yelled at me about that, saying it was one of the main reasons it had been so hard for me to find a patron.
“I don’t know what your task was, but it won’t be better than what I made,” the scarlet-haired boy continued.
I didn’t really know what to say to that, especially when it was coming from someone I didn’t know. All I could do was stammer out a “S-Sure.”
The guy snorted, then sped back to his foreman.
“What was that all about?”
“That’s Zack from Verde’s Workshop,” said the foreman. “He sees you as a rival. Y’know that everyone’s tense to see who gets the best appraisals and all that, right? Don’t be an idiot. If someone comes looking for a fight, give’m one!”
The foreman’s words caught my interest. Verde’s Workshop was the most popular and busy smithy in the whole city; if this Zack was a leherl there, it was safe to say he was a pretty skilled smith.
...Oh yeah, I think I remember the foreman telling me a long time ago that there was a smith my age that’s pretty good too.
Third bell rang, and several employees from the Smithing Guild entered the room to appraise our tasks. We brought ours over when we were called, explained what work we had been doing for the patron, what they had ordered, and how they had appraised our task. I showed them our purchase orders and the written appraisal to confirm that everything was legitimate.
“Those sure are a lot of supply orders.”
Myne certainly had ordered a great many things in the short time we had known each other. Most patrons didn’t order so many items in a row, and most certainly didn’t order things as weird as Myne did.
“Myne values Johann’s technical ability a lot. Her orders are always incredibly precise,” said the foreman as he spread out one of the blueprints Myne had given me. Each employee at the guild was a smith themselves, so they could tell how precise the orders were by looking at the blueprints.
“But who’s this ‘Forewoman Myne’? I’ve never heard of her before. Which workshop does she run?” one of the guild employees asked with his brow furrowed upon seeing Myne’s signature on the boards. Unfortunately, it was only then that I realized I didn’t even know what my patron’s workshop was.
“U-Uhh...” I started to falter, but the foreman put a hand on my shoulder and pointed at the appraisal board.
“Forewoman Myne’s underage, and Benno from the Gilberta Company’s her guardian. Ask that kinda question to him or the Merchant’s Guild.”
“The Gilberta Company’s backing her?” murmured the employees, a clear sense of awe in their voices as they looked at Benno’s name on the board.
The Gilberta Company was one of the largest stores in Ehrenfest. It wasn’t an old company with a storied history, but it was growing by the day and a lot of money passed through there. Myne being backed by them meant she was a very big deal when it came to patrons.
“Alright, let’s see your task,” said one employee after confirming that there were no problems with my patron. I removed the cloth from the box and showed them the letter types inside.
“What the heck are these?”
...Yeah, that was my first reaction too.
Even after Gil had taught us how the metal letter types were used, I still didn’t really see what made them so valuable. I would have bet that there wasn’t a single craftsman who could tell what they were worth at a glance.
“They’re called letter types. They’re pieces of metal with letters protruding out of them. Johann, explain the order.”
“Yes, sir. The important thing about this order is that each type had to be exactly identical in size. They all needed to be the same height so that they would line up perfectly flat when put next to each other, like this.” I took out a few letter types and lined them up next to each other, then lowered my head to see them at eye-level like Myne had done. The employees did the same as they were looking the types over.
“That’s a pretty precise job.”
“I was told they would break easily if they don’t line up perfectly.”
They couldn’t tell what the letter types were supposed to be used for, but they could appreciate how hard they had been to make. The employees nodded, impressed, and congratulated me on being able to do such precise work.
“According to the Gilberta Company, this is an invention that’s gonna change history,” said the foreman. He was just repeating what Benno had said, and the reactions to his claim were pretty divided; some laughed, clearly having taken it as a joke, while others paled as they considered the possibility of those words being true.
“Johann was even given the title of ‘Gutenberg’ for making these. Apparently that’s a title given to great men and women whose accomplishments have changed history. Johann and the Gilberta Company’s bosses are both the Gutenbergs of Ehrenfest now,” said the foreman in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear. A stir ran through the crowd, and I fought back the urge to curl up into a ball and die of embarrassment.
“So, how’d it go?” asked Benno.
After getting my task appraised at the Smithing Guild, the foreman and I had gone back to the Gilberta Company. We needed to deliver the letter types to Myne and report what the Smithing Guild had said about them. Once there, we were taken to the same office as before, where Benno asked us his question.
“Johann got the highest marks. Not that I expected anything different; no other apprentice would have been tasked to make something that required that much precision.”
I only had a single patron, but I had completed several orders for her, each of which had me making an unusual thing that required a high level of technical expertise to complete. And then there was the high price they ran. The fact that she had given me a title meant a lot too. The foreman and everyone else in the workshop made fun of me for it, but in the outside world, having a title was a great honor.
...Not that I want any honor!
Due to everyone going overboard about me being given the title of ‘Gutenberg,’ Zack had come in second place behind me—suffice it to say, that did not do me any favors, and his enmity for me had only grown stronger. He barked at the guild employees, saying it wasn’t right that I should be praised so highly after having had a bad reputation and no patron for such a long time.
...Believe me, Zack, I would give you this “Gutenberg” title in a second if I could. I want to make things that satisfy my patrons, and I want to develop all of the skills I’ll need to accomplish that, but I don’t care about any titles.
“No need to grimace like that, Johann. A good appraisal is real important,” said the foreman as he patted my shoulder.
Mark nodded in agreement. “Your foreman is correct. A positive reputation is important for keeping a workshop running. As a leherl, you must consider what’s best for the future of your workshop.”
I was always so focused on improving my own skills that I never really thought about the future of my workshop or its place within the Smithing Guild. It seemed that I would need to change that if I wanted to be a proper leherl.
“But y’know, merchants and craftsmen are different. You just focus on making some good stuff, Johann. That alone’ll help our workshop’s reputation. Don’t sweat it, I’ll make sure the workshop is run by people who are good at it. Hone your skills and just find another patron that appreciates your skillset like Myne does.”
“...Boss.”
The foreman always went all-out when teasing me, but he had a reliable side to him as well. Getting somewhat emotional, I resolved to improve my skills even further.
Mark gave a peaceful smile. “In that case, Johann, please enjoy these opportunities to hone your skills. They are from Myne,” he said, holding out several sheets of folded paper to me.
I opened them cautiously. They were work orders containing detailed blueprints. “Huh?!”
The blueprints described even more letter types. Some had blank surfaces, and others had symbols on them. I squeezed the papers with trembling hands, having not expected at all that my letter type hell wasn’t over yet.
“What... What are these?”
“Sister Myne provided these as a follow-up order for when you finished the initial one with satisfactory results. It seems that once you finish these symbols, she will order letter types of different sizes. Good luck,” Mark said with an encouraging smile.
But I wasn’t happy at all. His smile looked entirely like the smile of a person pushing tedious work onto someone else.
“You sure got one hell of a patron, huh?” The foreman plopped a hand onto my shoulder, which at the moment felt like it weighed more than the world. I turned around and saw that his eyes were gleaming with amusement. “Your name’s gonna be carved into history for sure if you finish all of these orders, Gutenberg.”
“Boss, please don’t call me that!” I groaned, cradling my head in my hands. “And I’d just felt some respect for you, too. Give it all back!”
Lutz gave a shrug. “You ran out of luck the day Myne found you. Give it up, Gutenberg.”
“You’re the first one she gave the title to, Johann. You’re the true Gutenberg,” Benno said with a serious expression.
That was a terrifying idea. They would all escape from the title unless I made a stand here. I needed to drag them down with me... Or rather, I didn’t want my allies running from their duty. I understood what I needed to do.
“Lutz, Benno, we’re all Gutenbergs here. Lady Myne said so herself!”
Benno clicked his tongue and glared at me, but I had no intention whatsoever of bearing the title’s burden all by myself.
“Actually, I think you should be the head Gutenberg, Benno. You’re the oldest and richest of all of us.”
“Nope. Nice try, Johann. It’s time you learn that whoever’s first loses.”
“What kind of logic is that?!”
In the end, we didn’t manage to settle on who the head Gutenberg was. When I later suggested to Myne that Benno should be the head Gutenberg, she replied like so:
“Don’t worry. You’re all Gutenbergs together. Nobody’s above or below anybody else.”
...No! That’s not the answer I wanted.
Historians of the future would state that this moment was when the Gutenberg Group—the disciples of Metisonora, the Goddess of Wisdom, who would dedicate their lives to developing the printing process and filling the world with books—was born in Ehrenfest.
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